It Begins
by Fang Scythe
Summary: A story about a bunch of OC's of mine. I can't really fit enough to summarize into this box, and I also want to have a lot of build up, so read and figure it out for yourself.


"It Begins."

"Excuse me, Lord?" inquired one of the advisors in the throne room.

"Avylix," said the man in the throne, "you recall that I told you that one day we must represent our race on the continent o Runeterra, correct?"

Avylix, looking at the man in the throne, spoke softly. "What about it, your True Highness?"

His True Highness, Etamitul turned his glowing blue eyes to Avylix. "That day has arrived. Five hundred years early at that."

"Well then," Avylix said, "consider me there."

Ornet awoke with a start. Another damned wierd dream. _Maybe the solitude is finally getting to my sanity._

He left his bed and after dressing in black trousers and a dark green sleeveless tunic and strapping his boomerang holsters on each of his legs, each one holding three boomerangs on the outer side and two on the inner side of his leg, making a grand total of ten boomerangs made of tempered steel with razor-sharp edges, he left his bed and walked out of what had been his house for the last month.

Outside it was a slightly overcast, but still sunny. He climbed to the top of the wall surrounding his small city and looked out over the horizon and, to his surprise, saw a group of soldiers on horses riding toward the gates. He climbed down and prepared to meet them.

Zalsod raised an eyebrow at the giant wall ahead of them. "I thought Noxus was still a few miles off."

His answer came from the rider next to him. "It is. This city isn't on any map that I've read."

"We should take a look," Zalsod said, "it is always good to have friends, especially ones in places like these.

"Yes, sir."

Zalsod smiled to himself. The son of a Freiljord woman and a Demacian lord, he was respected by both countries, for the woman's brother was a legendary hero to the people of Freiljord, and former owner of the serpentine sword that had cursed the famous Cassiopeia. The keyword was former.

After taking lessons in swordwork from his uncle, the swordsman had decided to bestow his blade to his nephew, for he had no sons of his own. Now Zalsod carried the blade in the name of Demacia and Freijliord. Now that his father had passed away from illness, he had taken over father's place, giving him more respect than before. This "sir" business would take some getting used to.

Ornet opened the gate sand stood in the center of the gateway. The lead rider reached the entrance and dismounted.

"Hello, young man." the rider said.

"Greetings to you as well," Ornet said, "may I ask what brings you here?"

"We come here under the peaceful flag of Demacia in the-"

He was cut off by the feeling of clod steel at his throat. The other riders were shocked to see this seventeen-year-old boy holding a steel boomerang to the throat of a Demacian commander.

Through gritted teeth, he growled a single word. "_Leave._"

He shoved the armored man back and pulled another boomerang from his other leg. With a flick of his wrists, his boomerangs shifted into daggers, and after another jerk of his arms, they elongated to rapiers. "_NOW._"

The commander backed away, but Zalsod dismounted and drew his blade from his back and held it in both of his hands.

Turning to the new challenger; he sneered. "I would back away, Demacian swine. It's hard to hold a sword without hands, after all."

"Your threats mean nothing without the skill to back them up," Zalsod said in a calm voice. "If this city has problems with Demacia, perhaps we could at least arrange a peace treaty. Would you mind if we talked to those in charge?"

"You're talking to him now," Ornet said with a smirk, "I'm judge, jury, and executioner around here."_  
_ "Didn't your parents teach you to pick your battles?" Zalsod said as the two adversaries began to circle each other.

"It's your country's fault they're dead." With that he switched the sword in his left hand back to a boomerang and hurled it at the other swordsman. Zalsod ducked under the projectile, but he was unable to avoid the Ornet as he rushed straight at him and began attacking furiously with kicks and punches mixed in with the slashes from his slim, quick sword. Eventually he took three steps back.

The two of them panted, one from the flurry of attacks he had unleashed, the other from the loss of breath after being hit with the onslaught. Zalsod stood up straight and gasped. "You're good, I must say. But what did you mean-"

Ornet grinned. "The thing about boomerangs," he spoke to the unconscious body of Zalsod, "is that they come back." With that he picked up the boomerang that had knocked out the seventeen-year-old swordsman and walked back into his city,the gates closing themselves behind him.

**A/N: Guess who's back! Sorry about the hiatus from writing , school just won't chill the **** out. New story for you guys! (probably should have said that at the beginning... oops XD). Well, this is going to have five OC's of mine. It originally started out as a bunch of characters Riot could add, but one thing led to another, and now, FULL-BLOWN STORY! YAAAAAAAAYY! If you have any OC's of your own, or just some feedback, feel free to PM or review! **

**Sincerely,**

**Everyone's favorite Fang Scythe**


End file.
